The Master Takes A Holiday
by Old Ping Hai
Summary: Peri and The Sixth Doctor find themselves coming to the rescue of The Master, who made the mistake of taking a vacation on a planet where The Fourth Doctor has become an object of veneration.


The Master takes A Holiday a Dr. Who fan fiction story by J. Fisher The Master Takes a Holiday  
by old-ping-hai@templelooters.com 

  
This story is posted with orignal artwork at www.templelooters.com 

  


~FORWARD~ 

A flock of birds sitting in the branches of a sturdy oak was very surprised indeed when a door opened in the side of the tree and a man clad in black velvet emerged. The birds took to the air indignantly, scolding the tree with loud, startled squawks before scattering in all directions. The man in black, the Master, took no notice whatsoever. Standing in front of his TARDIS, he stretched his arms as he assessed his surroundings. The area seemed safe enough, and he began to relax -- a bit. 

The Master was exhausted from one of his frequent last-minute escape efforts and badly in need of a rest. The kind of place that would not normally interest him in the least suddenly seemed appealing: he wanted a dull planet, a peaceful place conducive to relaxation. While still in the Time Vortex, he had picked this planet, Yyrikk, for a holiday. The TARDIS data banks informed him that Yyrikk was mainly agrarian, described the climate as pleasant and warm, and characterized the natives as "eccentric but harmless -- a cheerful, friendly folk." He had materialized on Yyrikk hours ago but remained in the TARDIS to do some thinking. 

The Master thought of himself as a man of simple needs. All he wanted was power, complete and total power, and he didn't think he was asking for too much. He _was_ the Master, after all! But his attempts to procure the power which was his due always ended in disaster. Quite a lot of ventures had gone sour on him recently; maybe it was about time for his luck to change. And since this trip to Yyrikk was for the purpose of rest and relaxation only, nothing could possibly go wrong. 

It was the Master's intention to remain in or around the TARDIS for most of his visit, but he had deliberately materialized within walking distance of a large town picked up by his sensors. Although it was hard to imagine what he might need that the TARDIS could not provide, the Master prided himself that he never left anything to chance. Feeling confident that he was prepared for any eventuality, he started out for a brisk walk. It wasn't until much later that the Master realized there was simply no way he could have prepared himself for what happened during his holiday on Yyrikk. 

CHAPTER ONE: 

The Master was walking along the side of a dirt highway enjoying the fresh breeze and warm sun when he heard the sound of a horse coming up behind him. Turning his head, he saw a horse-drawn carriage driven by a man wearing a hat, a scarf and a greatcoat. The Master wondered suspiciously why anyone would be bundled up like that on such a pleasant day. As the carriage gained on him, the Master felt in his pocket for the tissue compression eliminator. 

The driver pulled up beside the Master and slowed his horse."Would you like a ride? It's a ways to town yet." 

The Master raised his eyes to the driver, fully intending to decline the offer. But what he saw stopped him with his mouth open. His impression from a distance had been correct; the man was totally bundled up. He was wearing a floppy hat, a ridiculously long multi-toned scarf; and underneath the open overcoat, the Master now saw comfortable, tweedy clothes. 

_ How could two people in the universe dress in such a bizarre manner?_ the Master wondered. _Can he know the Doctor?_Impulsively he said, "Yes, I'd appreciate a ride, thank you." He climbed onto the seat beside the driver. 

The man waited until the Master was settled comfortably. Then he said, "Lovely day, sir. Have a jellybaby." He proferred the Master a little white paper bag. He did it so naturally that the Master reached inside reflexively, but the bag was empty. 

Puzzled, he raised his eyes to his new companion. 

The man laughed cheerily and said, "You're not suppposed to reach into the bag! It's empty -- it's only meant to be a symbol of friendship." He eyed the Master's black velvet clothing and continued, "You must be from a far village judging from your behavior and your dress, good sir. When you get to town, I advise you to buy a scarf and a bag." _Well, the TARDIS data bank had mentioned that the natives were eccentric._

The driver clicked his tongue at the horse and jogged the reins. As he started the carriage up again he said, "By the way, my name is Lazarrn." 

"I am The Master." 

Lazzarn wrinkled his brow a little at this declaration, but smiled and nodded equably. "Pleased to meet you, Master." 

As they rode along at a comfortable pace, the Master began to regret the impulse which had led him to accept the offer of a lift. If this man _was_ a friend of the Doctor, the Master didn't want to know. Why spoil the first holiday he'd had in eons thinking about the Doctor? Admittedly, he had been momentarily carried away by his curiosity, but now that he was back in control of himself, he needed to come up with an excuse to get Lazarrn to stop the carriage and let him off. 

Getting a word in edgewise proved impossible, however. Lazarrn was extremely talkative, and in a few minutes the Master learned more about his host than he really wanted to know. The endless flow of superficial chatter washed over him almost soothingly. Lazarrn seemed harmless enough; the Master decided to bow to the inevitable and ride into town with him. Once they arrived, he would simply turn around and walk back to the TARDIS. He could use the exercise. 

Soon the Master saw carriages coming from the opposite direction. As they passed within hailing distance of Lazarrn's carriage, Lazarrn called "Lovely day!" cheerily to each and every driver, and each replied in kind. Whether or not they had hats or coats, the Master noticed that all the drivers wore absurdly long multi-colored scarves. If he didn't want to be reminded of the Doctor, it was beginning to look as though he had picked the wrong planet for a holiday. 

The buildings by the side of the road were coming closer together, and soon the carriage arrived in the center of town. People strolled casually in and out of shops, apparently without a care in the world. "Lovely day. Have a jellybaby," they greeted each other cheerfully. Little white paper bags flourished. 

As Lazarrn navigated his carriage down the crowded main street, the Master shook his head in bewilderment. Like Lazarrn, every last man wore a long, dangling, gaily-colored scarf. Many also wore a hat or a greatcoat, or both. The men without hats had unkempt, curly hair. Glancing surreptitiously at Lazarrn, the Master saw that under his hat, he ,too, sported a large mop of unruly hair. The Master could no longer convince himself that the Doctor was not involved with all this in some way. 

Suddenly the Master noticed something else: all the women had long, white scarves wound around their necks and their hair was worn straight and parted down the middle. There were quite a few pink coats. _I suppose this is the influence of one of the Doctor's interminable female companions,_ he thought with disgust. 

Lazarrn brought the carriage to a halt at the front of the largest buiding on the street and jumped down to hitch the horse to the railing. Three men stood behind the railing, talking quietly. As Lazarrn's carriage pulled up, they had turned to greet him. "Lovely day, Lazarrn," two of them chorused, "have a jellybaby." Now all three were staring intently at the Master, who was beginning to think that getting a scarf might not be such a bad idea after all. 

The Master climbed down from the carriage and bowed slightly in their direction. "Greetings," he said cautiously 

"Lovely day; have a jellybaby," came the inevitable reply, followed by the equally inevitable paper bags. Once again only two of the men took part in the peculiar ritual; the third merely watched the Master with interest. 

Lazarm beamed widely and began introductions all around. "My friends," he said, "this is the Master. I picked him up as he was walking down the main highway. He is obviously a stranger to our ways, so let us make him feel welcome. Master, I'd like you to meet Morvva, Lynedd, and Reserakk." As Lazarrn prounounced each name, the man in question waggled the fringed edge of his scarf cheerlily. The exception was Reserakk, who merely noded his head briefly. 

"The Master's curiosity had by now passed the point of no return. "Excuse me," he said uncertainly. "I couldn't help wondering about something. By any chance, do you know someone who calls himself 'the Doctor'?" 

CHAPTER TWO: 

A stunned silence greeted the Master's question. The three men exchanged glances and then looked at Lazarrn. They could see that he was as astonished as they were. 

Finally Morvva said,"Bless my soul, sir; you speak as though the Doctor were still alive." 

"Of course the Doctor is still alive," the Master said. His little audience stirred with excitement. 

Lazarrn put a hand lightly on the Master's arm. "Almost 150 years ago, the Doctor happened by our planet and helped us through a time of great trouble. We've honored him ever since in our speech and our dress and had ardently hoped for his return. But he must be dead many, many years now." 

"Believe me, Lazarrn; the Doctor is still alive." _Despite my best efforts to the contrary._ Unobtrusively, the Master moved his arm out of Lazarrn's reach and brushed at the nap of his velvet sleeve. 

"And you know him?" Reserakk sounded faintly disbelieving. 

"We grew up together. I'm his oldest friend in the universe," replied the Master with a faint curve of his lips. Few things pleased him more than to be able to tell the exact truth in a totally misleading way. 

There was a collective gasp, "You honor us by your presence," Lazarrn said. 

The Master tried to look suitably modest while his mind sorted through various ways to take advantage of the situation. Then he remembered that he was on holiday. _ I said no trouble, and no trouble it is,_ he decided resolutely to himself. Aloud he said, "No, no; I'm simply a weary traveller, stopping by your planet for a brief, restful sojourn." 

"How did you come to our planet?" inquired the Councillor named Lynedd. 

"In my TARDIS," the Master answered casually. He knew they were testing him. 

Reserakk, the youngest member of the group, had been glowering through most of this. "Lazarrn, you don't really expect us to accept that you, a Believer, just happened to pick up the Doctor's oldest friend on the main highway?" 

The Master looked inquiringly around the group. "A 'believer'?" he asked. 

"No one alive on this planet today has ever met the Doctor," replied Morvva. "In fact, there are some who do not believe there ever _was_ a Doctor." He looked meaningfully at Reserakk. 

"It is more than that," Reserakk broke in earnestly. "It has to do with our society, which has not changed since the day the Doctor left. Our way of greeting, our dress, all come from the time the Doctor was here. It has become impossible to effect any change in our way of life, because it is felt if we did not have it at the time this Doctor was here, we do not need it now. We will not make any forward strides until we can purge ourselves of old legends and .." 

"Enough," Lazarrn interrupted firmly. "We can debate this issue in Council Chamber, Reserakk. In the meantime, let us take our guest into the Capitol Building. Perhaps he will want to see our display of the Doctor's Sacred Relics." 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," replied the Master blandly, and he followed the men up the steps. Several guards standing by the doors came to attention as the little group entered the building. 

The Master learned some marginally interesting facts about his hosts as they escorted him through the lobby of the Capitol Building. Lazarrn told him that the quarterly meeting of the Planetary Council would take place the next day. Lazarrn was a senior Council member, on his way to the meeting when he offered the Master a ride. Morvva was the President of the Council, and Lynedd was also a senior member. Reserakk was the most junior member, newly elected to his seat by the growing faction of "non-believers" in the society at large. The Master noted that the three senior Council members were about the age the Doctor had appeared to be in his fourth incarnation. The Yyrikkites probably considered that to be the prime of life. He wondered idly what they would have done had they known the Doctor was over 700 years old at the time of his visit! 

Lazarrn was still chattering away. Did the man never run out of breath? Now he was explaining that the meeting would take three days, during which time all the Council members would remain sequestered in the Capitol Building. Rather diffidently, he asked if the Master would like to stay with them for the three days, observing the meeting. 

The offer was irresistible to the Master. It would be amusing to observe the law-making body of a society which based its ways on the erratic behavior of a goody-two-shoes like the Doctor. Such a society would certainly be based on democracy, liberty, and all those other pathetic notions the Doctor held so dear. The Council would probably debate every issue into the ground and never be able to resolve anything. "Thank you so much, Lazarrn; I would be delighted," he replied with alacrity. _ I can use a good laugh._

"And now we come to the Council Chamber, the seat of government for the planet of Yyrikk," Morvva was saying as he opened the large, heavy doors to ther chamber. "This is also where ... " his voice trailed off as he saw the room was not empty. Two women, both with long straight hair and long white scarves, were sitting at the enormous table which dominated the chamber. "Ah, Orenn, Rikkir, lovely day." 

The women stood to greet him, then hesitated uncertainly when they saw the Master. "Master, this is Orenn and Rikkir, the final two members of our governing body," said Morvva. "Madame Councillors, this is the Master -- a friend of the Doctor's, here to ... " 

"A friend of the Doctor's?" interrupted the woman addressed as Orenn. "I don't understand." With excited words and gestures, Morvva and Lazarrn explained the situation to the two women. 

The Master had stopped listening to Morvva the moment they entered the Council Chamber. His total attention was focused on the area of the large table. Hanging on the wall above the table was an oil painting of the Doctor in his third regeneration. The Doctor was smiling toothily. This the Master barely glanced at. 

But on the table was a small glass reliquary, and in the reliquary were two objects: a piece of orange candy and a small shining metal object. To the people of Yyrikk they were souvenirs of the Doctor, but to the Master they were obviously a very stale jellybaby and a Temporal Regulator in mint condition. 

The Master reached out to raise the reliquary lid, but it was locked. Lazarrn hurried up to him, a worried look on his face. "No, friend," he said, "to touch the Holy Relics carries a penalty of death. This is all the Doctor left to us, and we must protect it for our posterity." The Master dropped his arms to his side, but his mind was racing. 

When the Master originally acquired the TARDIS (actually, he stole the TARDIS, but he rarely described it that way), the first thing he had done was run a complete equipment inventory check. The time machine itself was in excellent condition, but the spare parts cabinet had been somewhat deficient. The Master had, over time, gradually restocked the spare parts inventory, concluding that he was keeping the time capsule in much better condition than the previous owner. It was obvious he'd done the TARDIS a favor when he picked it out for his own use. 

However, some components were not easily replaced. The Temporal Regulator was an excellent example. Its technology was purely Gallifreyan, but he couldn't just go back to Gallifrey and ask them for a new one. This might be his only chance to replace the missing piece of equipment! If his Temporal Regulator ever went out, he would not be able to direct the TARDIS to specific temporal coordinates. 

The Yyrikkites had no use for the Temporal Regualor, but he did. The Master wondered if fate had led him here just for this reason. If so, how could he turn down such a wonderful opportunity? 

The Master cancelled his holiday on the spot. The Yyrikkites could keep the jellybaby, but the Temporal Regulator was his. 

CHAPTER THREE: 

While the Master was touring the Capitol Building, the hospitable Yyrikkites prepared guest quarters for him. Rikkir now escorted the Master out of the Council Chamber and a short way down a corridor. When she stopped and opened a door, the Master was pleased to see that his room was quite close to the Council Chamber. Excellent; he wouldn't have too far to go when he went back for the Temporal Regulator. Unwittingly echoing the thought, Rikkir said, "We are giving you a room close to the Council Chamber. These corridors can be very confusing." The Master smiled at her, enjoying the private joke. 

The room they entered was small but comfortably furnished. There was a bed, a writing desk and chair, a dressing mirror and a chest of drawers. Another copy of the Doctor's portrait from the Council Chamber hung on the wall above the bed. The Master stared at it sourly. Fortunately he did not intend to remain overnight; he would never be able to sleep with THAT hanging over his head. _Bug-eyed idiot,_ he thought uncharitably. 

Rikkir went to the gas fixture and turned up the lighting. As the room lightened, the Master was able to see in more detail. On the bed lay a long, gaily colored scarf. He picked it up and looked at Rikkir questioningly. She smiled at him. "Lazarrn thought you'd like one." 

The Master barely restrained a shudder. "How very thoughtful of him," he said. 

Rikkir stepped back towards the door. "I'm sure you're tired. Perhaps you would like to rest before the evening meal." 

"Tell me Rikkir; what are you and the other Councillors going to be doing before dinner?" The Master made his question sound casual. "I should hate to miss any state proceedings." 

"We six Councillors come from all over Yyirikk to be here," Rikkir explained. "It is customary that we rest after we arrive. We shall all be in our rooms. If you need anything, just ring the bell by the bed and a servant will attend you. Orren will come by to fetch you for dinner, which is in three hours." 

"Thank you so much," he replied. "Three hours should be more than enough time ... to rest." 

"Sleep well, Master." Rikkir bowed slightly and left the room. 

The Master hefted the scarf thoughtfully in both hands. Wearing it would make him much less conspicuous on the way back to the TARDIS after aquiring his new spare Temporal Regulator. 

With that thought, the Master stood before the dressing mirror, winding the ridiculously long scarf around and around his neck until the dangling ends no longer reached the ground. All he needed was to trip on the idiotic thing during his escape. He admired himself in the mirror - the scarf looked much better on him than on the Doctor, of course. He flicked a speck of lint from his immaculate black velvet clothing and strode purposefully toward the door, the dangling scarf ends fluttering behind him. 

As the Master reached for the door handle, the door swung open. Reserakk stood on the threshold with a gun in his hand. He prodded the Master back into the middle of the room, pressing the primitive weapon firmly into the Master's chest. 

"Reserakk, what do you think you're doing?" the Master demanded. 

He was more annoyed than worried. He knew he could handle this young hot-head easily. 

"I'm very sorry, Master; I have nothing against you," Reserakk replied. "But you say you are a friend of the Doctor, and this planet needs no more reminders of the Doctor. Your visit will have the effect of reinforcing the old ways on the people. I cannot allow this; not when we are so close to great changes. I must insist that you leave Yyrikk immediately." 

The Master was not going anywhere without his Temporal Regulator. "Reinforcing the Doctor's influence was not what I had in mind when I came here." 

"I find that hard to credit. I believe that Morvva and Lazarrn hired you to pretend to be a friend of the Doctor. Their influence is fading; my election proves this. I represent those who are not convinced there ever was a Doctor. We believe the Doctor is a bed-time story created in the past to keep people contented with their backwards lot in life." 

"Believe me, Reserakk: there was and is a Doctor. But he himself has changed quite a bit over your last 150 years. I know he would not approve of the arrested development on Yyrikk any more than you do." Reserakk looked intrigued. 

The Master decided to keep him talking. "Tell me, how did this stagnation come about? I take it nothing has changed since the Doctor left, except that the population has adopted some of his more flamboyant mannerisms?" 

The gun was starting to drift towards the floor. "Yes, it is said that no one on Yyrikk had ever seen anyone like Doctor before." 

"I can well imagine," the Master interrupted drily. 

"Our ancestors were quite taken with him and his ways," Reserakk continued. 

"So I observe." 

Then, according to our history, after the Doctor helped us, we asked him how he liked our planet. 'Very nice' he said, and so our leaders have felt ever since that we should not change a single thing because the Doctor approved of Yyrikk the way it was." 

The Master nodded. "But you think this is changing now?" 

"It is only recently that any oppsition has been tolerated. I am the first person elected to the Council in generations who is openly against the staus quo. I tell you, any reminder of the Doctor will ruin everything I am working for." 

"Reserakk, I sympathise with you completely. The Doctor certainly can be a meddlesome, interfering fool." 

"I thought the Doctor was your friend," Reserakk said suspiciously. 

"Well, we _have_ had a minor falling out. Be that as it may, though, I have never been nearly as enthralled with the Doctor as are your fellow Councillors. Now listen to me, young man. You must trust me. I am the Master and you will obey me. You will obey me." 

Reserakk had no defense against the Master's hypnotic technique. "I must obey." 

"Give me your weapon." Reserakk handed over the gun. 

The Master could have killed Reserakk right then and there, but he hesitated. Reserakk's revolutionary tendancies reminded him a bit of himself as a youth. Anyway, who could blame the young man for wanting to change a society based on the Doctors hair-brained ways! "Go now, Reserakk. Go to your quarters and take a nap until dinner. When you awake, you will remember nothing of this little incident." Reserakk left the room. 

After a few minutes, the Master looked out into the corridor. It was empty. He moved furtively down the large hallway to the Council Chamber doors, which he opened cautiously. The chamber was vacant. The Master slipped inside the large room and shut the heavy doors quietly. 

As the sturdy doors closed behind the Master, Morvva and Lazarrn came around a corner in the corridor. Morvva was saying "... didn't think you'd mind my rousing you. You don't come nearly as far as the others, and I was hoping you wouldn't be too tired to accompany me." 

"Not at all," Lazarrn replied. "And of course, when you said you thought you saw a crack in the reliquary glass -- well, we must look into this." They continued in measured paces toward the Council Chamber. 

The Master had to smash open the locked reliquary to get to the Temporal Regulator. A quick examination confired that it was in perfect condition, and he was actually slipping it into his pocket when the chamber doors opened and Lazarrn and Morvva entered. The two Councillors gaped in in disbelief at the broken reliquary. 

"What are you doing?" Morvva demanded. 

"This isn't what it looks like," the Master said. He fixed them both in his compelling glance. "You must believe me. You must believe me." 

If only one man had entered the room, the Master might have had a chance; and in fact, Lazarrn looked like he was falling under the Master's hypnotic spell. But Morvva was outraged. They had trusted this man totally and look how they repaid him! Before the Master realized what was happening, Morvva charged him. Suddenly, the Master's hands were tied behind his back with the trailing ends of his own scarf and Morvva was holding the Temporal Regulator reverently in his hands. "Lazarrn, get the guards," he said harshly. Lazarrn left the chamber quickly. 

Gingerly brushing aside shards of glass, Morvva set the Temporal Regulator gently back in its place next to the jellybaby. "You know that the penalty for what you have done is death," he said coldly. 

"But I don't want this for myself," the Master protested. "I happen to know that the Doctor needs it back. I was planning to return it to him." 

"You did not tell us this before," Morvva said. His tone of voice was not encouraging. 

The Master put on his most sincere manner. "I saw how attached you were to it and I was afraid you could not bring yourself to part with it. So I decided to take it; and then I was going to leave and give it to the Doctor." 

The Master could see that Morvva was not convinced. The story didn't sound too convincing to the Master, either. It was certainly not one of his better efforts. _One day on holiday and I've lost my touch already,_ he thought ruefully. 

Lazarrn returned with several guards, who immediately surrounded the Master and grabbed him roughly. Looking hurt and upset, Lazarrn motioned to the guards. "Take him to the penal wing." 

"Wait!" The Master struggled with the guards as they dragged him towards the doors. "What are you going to do?" 

Morvva gestured and the guards stopped. "The first order of business on our agenda tomorrow morning will be to tell our fellow Councillors what you have done. The second will be to draw up an order for your immediate execution." He gestured again and the guards hustled the Master out of the Council Chamber, protesting the purity of of his motives all the way. 

CHAPTER FOUR: 

"I'm sure there's a spare around here somewhere, Peri." The Doctor was sitting cross-legged by the conrol console with a worn looking piece of equipment balanced on one knee. "I usually have more than one of everything." 

"What if you don't, Doctor?" Perpugilliam Brown had often wondered if the TARDIS would simply stop working one day, leaving them stranded in the Time Vortex forever. Not exactly what she'd had in mind when she joined up with the Doctor for the remainer of her summer vacation! 

The Doctor ran his fingers through his curly blond hair. "Well, if we land somewhere soon we'll be all right for a while. The problem is that when the Temporal Regulator malfunctions, it frequently throws off the Temporal Locator and the Spatial Coordinate Stabalizer as well. As of now, all I can't control too well is _when_ we land." 

"As if you ever could!" Peri muttered rebelliously. 

"I beg your pardon?" the Doctor said indignantly. 

"I'm sure you heard me. So what you're saying is you can land some_where_ but not some_when_ specific. And if you don't replace this whatever-it-is, eventually it'll throw off some other parts and we might not be able to land some_where_ specific either." 

"That's it, in a nutshell," replied the Doctor cheerfully. He went over to a panel in the wall, which opened at his touch. 

Peri looked exasperated. "I don't see how that's any different from what you do now!" She crossed the Control room to stand next to the Dctor in front of the open wall panel. It turned out to be a large spare parts cabinet. 

"Wow!" Peri was surprised to see that the shelving was quite well stocked. There were relatively few spaces that did not hold a computer board or a piece of shining metal, and the spaces without TARDIS parts held cases of jellybabies. In fact, a case of jellybabies stood squarely in the place labeled "Temporal Regulator." 

"Uh, Doctor, there's some kind of candy on the shelf where the spare Temporal Regulator should be." 

"I can see that, Peri." The Doctor stood frowning at the case of jellybabies. "That's odd. I'm sure I never replaced the Temporal regulator since I've had the TARDIS. It's a very important part -- not the kind of thing I'd forget about." 

Peri was privately of the opinion that the Doctor would forget his head if it wasn't firmly attached to his body, but she always found it was best to humor him. "So maybe whoever had it before you used the spare and never replaced it." 

"No, no, no; according to this inventory list I made when I first ... ah, borrowed her, the TARDIS had a spare Temporal regulator." (The Doctor always insisted he intended to return the TARDIS someday.) 

As Peri took the yellowing inventory list from the peg it was hanging on, it crumbled apart in her hands. "Doctor, how long ago did you do this?" 

The Doctor looked a bit vague. "Quite a while ago, now that I come to think of it." 

"Well, there's no Temporal Regulator there now, so you must have used it." She pointed at the shelf. "AND you must have put the jellybabies there, too." 

"I'm sure I'd remember if I'd replaced it, but I might have used it for something else -- now _that_ rings a bell. I used it for something, but not as a Temporal Regulator --" he snapped his fingers "and not on the TARDIS. Eureka!" He looked smugly at Peri. 

"Are you going to let me in on this, Doctor, or are you going to stand around admiring your prodigious memory all day?" 

"I left it on Yyrikk, a small planet in the Tau Phylox Cluster. I used it to help them solve some problem or other, and then they asked me if they could have it as a momento. I remember they put it on a pedestal or something." 

"So what are we going to do now?" 

"I think we'll just pop over there and ask them very nicely if we can have it back." 

Peri shook her head. "How are we going to get there? The Temporal Regulator isn't working, remember?" 

"Yes, that could be a bit of a problem. I have to land AFTER my previous appearance, or else no one will know who I am or what I'm taking about. Hmph-hmph-hmph. I have to land there at the right time to get the Temporal Regulator back, but I can't land there at the right time because the Temporal Regulator isn't working. This certainly calls for a little creative problem-solving, doesn't it?" 

The Doctor went to the console and, to Peri's total amazement, began to talk to the TARDIS. "Well, old girl, I need your help. I'll set the spatial coordinates for Yyrikk, but you must help me out a little by using your telepathic ability to pick the right place to land, if you would be so kind. I'm leaving it up to you." He boosted the power to the telepathic circuits and the time rotor began to rise and fall. The Doctor nodded in satisfaction. Peri stood speechless. 

When the time rotor stopped, the Doctor said, "We've landed. Well, let's see where she set us down." He operated the controls to the viewscreen. 

CHAPTER FIVE: 

They found themselves looking into the Council Chamber where six people, frozen with astonishment, stared at the TARDIS. The six were grouped around a table, and on the table the Doctor saw what he had come for. 

"Peri, that's my Temporal Regulator there on the table!" 

Peri noted tartly that the TARDIS had done a better job of getting them where they were going than the Doctor ever had. "Maybe you should just leave everything up to her from now on." The Doctor stuck out his tongue childishly. 

The Council had been discussing the Master's death sentence when the TARDIS materialized. Once the paralysis of surprise wore off, all six officials hurried to the TARDIS to await the Doctor's appearance. Morvva was composing his thoughts into a speech of welcome as the door opened. 

"Doctor, we greet you ..." he began warmly, then stopped dead as an unfamiliar figure emerged. "Who are you?" he gasped. "How do you come to have the Doctor's TARDIS?" 

"I'm the Doctor," replied the stranger. "And this is my current travelling companion, Miss Perpugilliam Brown." 

"Quite a day, eh, fellow Councillors?" said Reserakk sarcastically. "First we get someone who claims to be a friend of the Doctor, and now here is someone claiming to be the Doctor himself." 

Before the Doctor could ask the young Councillor what he was talking about, Morrva said "_You_ are not the Doctor. _That_" -- gesturing at the portrait -- "is the Doctor." 

Peri and the Doctor followed Morvva's pointing finger. The Doctor looked dispassionately at the likeness of his fourth incarnation, but Peri said "Gee, I guess you really _can't_ control how your regenerations turn out, can you?" The Doctor ignored her and turned back to the indignant Councillor. 

"I _am_ the Doctor," the Doctor insisted, "but it is true that I have changed since then." He nodded his head at the portrait. 

"Several times," Peri murmured ruefully. She often thought of the Doctor the way he was when they first met. She wasn't at all convinced this latest regeneration was an improvement. 

The Doctor was having a problem persuading the Council members that he was who he claimed to be. "How can we take your word for this?" Lazarrn asked. The Councillors were still smarting from the Master's deception. 

"Is there any way I can prove to you that I am who I say I am?" the Doctor asked. 

Morvva regarded him levelly. "There is one way. It is a phrase -- a hallowed phrase to us -- that the Doctor used when he finally figured out how to help us. The phrase was written down in a book about the Doctor's visit, and no one is allowed to read the book but the current head of the Council. So if you can tell me what the Doctor said immediately before he helped us, I will know whether or not you are he." 

Peri nearly groaned aloud. If everything depended on the Doctor's memory, they might as well leave now. 

"Well, let me see," said the Doctor. "I remember that a small capsule from outer space had landed here, and the emanations coming from it were making your ancestors very sick indeed." 

Morvva nodded, unimpressed. "But that much you could have culled from our history texts." 

"Give me time," said the Doctor. "I had to open the capsule in order to stop the emissions. I tried to open it with my hands, but is was locked and I sprained my thumb. Then I tried the sonic screwdriver -- you've never seen the sonic screwdriver, have you Peri? -- but the power pack was run down. Then Romana made an incredibly lucky guess about the Temporal Regulator being the right shape to fit into the lock, so I went to the TARDIS spare parts locker to fetch it. And then I -- yes, I remember now! I inserted the Temporal Regulator into the lock, and when I saw that it fit I said, 'Nothing can possibly go wrong this time.' And of course, nothing did. 

The other five Councillors were looking at Morvva, who had turned very pale. "It _is_ the Doctor!" he cried. 

The Doctor was surrounded by delighted Yyrikkites, and no one but Peri saw Reserakk leave the room, slumping dejectedly. 

"Doctor," Morvva asked, when things had quieted down, "why have you returned? It has been 150 years since you were last here; we never thought we would see you again." 

"That can wait," said the Doctor. "First, please tell me about this person who says he is my friend. It's always nice to meet a friend unexpectedly." 

"He calls himself 'the Master'," said Morvva distastefully, "and he seems to be a thoroughly unpleasant person. I would not be at all surprised if he is lying about being a friend of yours." 

Peri's eyes widened. "Oh, no, Doctor; the M-umph!" She cried out as the Doctor stepped a bit too hard on her foot. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Peri," he said smoothly. Then he turned back to the Councillors. "This 'Master' -- is he still on Yyrikk?" 

"Yes, unfortunately," Lazarrn replied. "He is in the penal wing." 

"The penal wing?" the Doctor echoed. 

Morrva nodded. "Yes, Doctor; this man who claims to be your friend was caught trying to steal the Keepsake of Metal you left us. The penalty is death. The Master is in jail waiting for his sentence to be carried out." The Doctor and Peri exchanged glances. 

"The 'Master'," the Doctor said thoughtfully. "Can't quite say that rings a bell." Peri turned amazed eyes in his direction. The Doctor winked at her. "Morvva, may I see this man?" 

"Yes, of course, Doctor." Morvva and Lazarrn turned to lead the Doctor and Peri toward the door. 

Rikkir, Lynedd and Orenn had been talking and gesturing together excitedly. "Excuse me, Morvva," said Orenn, "but Lynedd, Rikkir and I would prefer not to visit the jail block, if that is all right with you?" 

Morvva nodded."As you wish." The two women eyed the Doctor and Peri from head to foot one last time, then left the room with Lynedd, looking very excited. 

"And now, Doctor, shall we go?" Morvva gestured towards the doors. 

"Yes, I shall be very interested to see this 'Master' person," said the Doctor. His face was unreadable, but Peri saw his eyes were twinkling. 

CHAPTER SIX: 

Four guards were needed to drag the Master from the Council Chamber to the penal wing. Once in the cell block, they took the contents of his pockets and efficiently locked everything away. Then they freed his hands and pushed him roughtly into a cell. All his efforts to hypnotise them were cut short by a single barked order: "Quiet!" 

After the guards left, the Master looked around and discovered that he was currently the sole occupant of the entire penal wing. He wasn't surprised, since there was nothing on this benighted planet worth stealing. Correction: there was one thing on the planet worth stealing and he was in jail trying for trying to steal it. 

The Master was quite taken aback by the way things had worked out for him. He had expected to be in another galaxy by the time the Yyrikkites were sitting down to dinner. He brooded on the capriciousness of fate, which had placed the Temporal Regulator enticingly before him and then snatched it cruelly away. Not to mention the fact that his holiday was completely ruined. 

In the final analysis, of course, the whole thing was the Doctor's fault. How typical of the Doctor to go scattering perfectly sound TARDIS parts all around the universe! Who could blame the Master for trying to recover the Temporal Regulator, which was totally wasted on the backward natives of this retarded planet? "I'm going to give that galactic litterbug a good piece of my mind the next time I see him!" he grumbled aloud. 

The Master spent a cramped and miserable night tossing sleeplessly on the narrow cot in his barren cell. Morning found him playing listlessly with the fringed ends of his scarf. He paled when he heard the cell block door open. They must be coming to take him to the place of execution. Was it possible that his lives were going to end in this degrading manner? How humiliating to be put to death by primitives who were not worthy to grovel at his feet! 

To the Master's total astonishment, the Doctor entered the cell block accompanied by Perpugilliam Brown, Morvva and Lazarrn. The Master jumped to his feet. "Doctor!" he exclaimed. "Doctor, am I relieved to see you!" He was confident the Doctor would never allow the Yyrikkites to execute him. 

The Doctor was chatting amiably with Lazarrn and seemed not to have heard the Master's welcoming exclamation. Even as the little group advanced the short distance towards the Master's cell, the Doctor continued with what he was saying, totally ignoring the cell's agitated occupant. 

"Doctor!?" repeated the Master, with a little less certainty. 

"Excuse me, Doctor," said Morvva respectfully, touching him lightly on the arm to get his attention. 

"Yes?" the Doctor turned questioningly in his direction. 

Morvva gestured towards the Master, who was now tightly gripping the bars to his cell. "This is the man who says he is your friend." 

The Doctor looked blankly into the cell. At the same time, he squeezed Peri's arm to keep her from saying anything. Peri needed no warning, though. She had finally realized what the Doctor was up to and was looking forward to it. 

"Doctor!" the Master cried. "Miss Brown! Tell them who I am!" He leaned forward and pressed his nose between the bars. Peri began to have a hard time keeping a straight face. 

The Doctor, however, was having no problem whatsoever. In fact, he was becoming more creative as he went along. "Who, indeed?" He seemed to really look at Master for the first time. "Do I know you?" He continued to contemplate the Master with what appeared to be a genuine air of puzzlement. The Master rattled the bars in frustration. 

With a shrug of his shoulders the Doctor turned to face the little group. "One meets so many people in the course of his lifetimes," he said apologetically, "and I've never had a good memory for names or faces." He turned back to the Master and looked him up and down. "But the scarf looks familiar." 

The Master was still clutching the bars. His knuckles had turned white. "Doctor, this is not funny!" he said through clenched teeth. "Don't you realize I'm under sentence of death!?" 

"Ah, yes; they did just mention something about that. Morvva, what is it this wretched miscreant has done?" the Doctor inquired. Peri hoped he was not laying it on too thick. 

Morvva said solemnly, "He defiled your reliquary and tried to take the Keepsake of Metal you left us." 

The Doctor looked thoroughly shocked."No!" 

"Yes, indeed," chimed in Lazarrn. "We caught him in the process of removing it from its pedestal." 

The Doctor shook his head sadly. "What _is_ the galaxy coming to?" 

A strangled sound escaped the Master. "Enough is enough, Doctor! You must tell them who I am!" 

The Doctor reluctantly decided he had punished the Master enough. "Oh, all right," he said a bit sulkily. He turned to Morvva. "This man was telling the truth; he is a friend of my childhood days." He looked back at the Master, "Satisfied?" 

Typically, the Master wasted no time in gratitude. "Now that this is settled, you'll be releasing me immediately, of course," he said arrogantly to Morvva. 

Morvva looked doubtfully at the Doctor. "A moment ago you said you did not know this man," he pointed out. 

A little guiltily the Doctor said, "I was having him on -- it was a joke. We're always playing these little tricks on one another; it's a tradition. You know: he tries to kill me; I pretend not to know him." 

Apparently the Yyrikkites did not appreciate the humor of the situation. Lazarrn said, "Even so, Doctor, this man has broken our sacred law. He must be punished for trying to remove the Keepsake of Metal." 

The Doctor shifted his weight uneasily. "Well, actually, I wanted to ask if I could remove the keepsake myself." Suddenly he brightened. "But I was detained, and so I asked my _old friend_ here if he would come in my stead. When he didn't return, I came looking for him. I'm very sorry if his boorish ways offended you. He really can be most trying." 

The Doctor fully expected to be the target of an irate look from the Master and was surprised by the slight smirk that appeared at the corners of his mouth. 

Morvva no longer knew what to believe! "Yes, this is what the Master told us, but only after he was caught." The Doctor raised astonished eyebrows at the Master, who smiled broadly in return. "Still, since he _was_ acting on your behalf, Doctor ..." Somewhat reluctantly. Morvva released the Master from his jail cell. 

"I see now it was a mistake to send the Master on this errand," admitted the Doctor. "I'm so used to it, I forgot how churlish he can seem if you don't know him. I can certainly see why you might want to execute him." He eyed the Master thoughtfully. "Apparently I got here just in time." 

The Master came up beside the Doctor and smiled a crooked little smile at him. "Thank you -- I think." 

"Don't mention it. I'm sure I'll regret this; just give me a chance. Now, Morvva, I really did come here because I need the Temporal Regulator -- the Keepsake of Metal, as you call it. But I hesitate to take it unless I can offer you something else of value. Is there anything I can do for you?" 

Morvva and Lazarrn exchanged glances. "There is something," Lazarrn said excitedly. "The jellybabies you left with us were all consumed except for the last one, which was preserved in the reliquary. It would be wonderful to have enough jellybabies so that everyone could have a few for the Bag of Greetings." Seeing the Doctor's puzzled look, the Councillors told him about the little white paper bags. 

"Well, I can certainly help you out there," the Doctor told them. "I haven't had any call for jellybabies in -- oh, quite some time now. Peri, why don't you and Lazarrn just nip into the TARDIS spare parts cabinet and bring out the jellybabies? After all, if I ever want more, I can easily pop back to England for them." 

The Master wondered if he heard correctly. "Did you say that you keep jellybabies in the spare parts cabinet?" 

The Doctor shrugged. "Yes, it seemed like a logical place to the beige cricket player." The Master smiled in spite of himself. 

CHAPTER SEVEN: 

The Doctor, the Master, and Morvva stood outside the Doctor's TARDIS in the Council Chamber. Several cases of jellybabies were already stacked by the TARDIS door. Morvva looked hopefully at the Doctor. "Doctor, may I go inside your TARDIS to help Lazarrn and Miss Brown carry out boxes?" At the Doctor's nod, Morvva disappeared eagerly into the time machine. 

A guard entered the Council Chamber and headed towards the Master. He was carrying the Master's previously-confiscated possessions in his hands. As he approached the two Time Lords, the Doctor and the Master each made a grab for the tissue elimination compressor. 

The Master won. 

"You needn't look so worried, Doctor. I have no interest in using this at the moment." He put his cherished weapon away carefully. 

"I must admit that's a relief," replied the Doctor. "Why so magnanimous?" 

"I feel I owe you something for getting me out of jail, although your intervention was quite unnecessary. I'm sure that eventually I would have escaped on my own." 

"Well! Your gratitude is certainly overwhelming! As long as you're in such an expansive mood, tell me why you didn't try to take over this planet using your influence as my 'oldest friend in the galaxy.' I'm sure you could have convinced these friendly, naive souls that you spoke for me." 

The Master didn't see any need to bore the Doctor with tedious explanations about quiet holidays. "Let us simply say that the natives here have abysmal taste. I have no interest in any planet that considers _you_ someone to look up to." The Doctor laughed good-naturedly. 

The guard assigned to return the Master's belongings had left the chamber and Peri, Morvva, and Lazarrn were still in the Doctor's TARDIS. Now that they were alone, there was something the Master wanted to know. "Doctor," he asked quietly, "why didn't you let them execute me? For a while there, I thought you were going to." 

The Doctor looked steadily at the Master. "You have done many things in your lives for which you deserve to be executed," he replied, "but stealing my Temporal Regulator is not one of them! I prefer to let the punishment fit the crime." _Saved by a cliche!_ thought the Master. 

Peri, Lazarrn, and Morvva emerged from the TARDIS, each carrying several cases of jellybabies. "This is the last one of them," Peri puffed, dropping her batch on the floor. 

Lazarrn set his load down a bit more carefully. He looked awed. "So many. For over a century we have had only the one in the reliquary." 

The Doctor spoke. "What was stopping you from making your own? The technique is not that much beyond your present level of technology. I'm sure you could have figured it out." 

Morvva was surprised. "You mean, it would have been all right with you?" 

"Of course it would have been all right with me. I don't understand why you even ask." It was the Doctor's turn to be surprised. 

Morvva and Lazarrn exchanged glances. Suddenly uncertain, they explained Yyrikk's centuries-long philosophy to the Doctor. 

The Doctor said gently, "I'm sure I would have been very flattered if I had known how your ancestors felt. But I never meant for them to interpret my words as a reason to halt progress." 

Morvva said, "So we have been wrong all this time." He smiled a little sadly. "It seems we will be in for quite a few changes in the near future." 

The Master spoke drily. "Well, at least you have an expert on change in your Council." 

Morvva looked relieved at the thought. "Yes, Reserakk has ... where is Reserakk?" 

Peri asked, "Is he the young dark-haired one?" At Lazarrn's nod she went on, "He left immediately after you confirmed the Doctor's identity. He looked very unhappy. I meant to ask why, but in all the excitement I forgot." 

Morvva said thoughtfully, "It must have upset him very much to have the Doctor come back. He was convinced that the Doctor was a fairy tale invented to discourage resourcefulness and motivation. Lazarrn, send the guards to fetch Reserakk." Lazarrn hurried to summon the guards. 

Very shortly two guards presented a sullen Reserakk to the head of the Council. "Reserakk," said Morvva solemnly, "it appears the Council owes you an apology." 

Reserakk looked confused. "I do not understand. Now that the Doctor has returned, I should think everything is going your way." He shot a resentful glance at the Time Lord. 

"Reserakk," said the Doctor, "I've had a talk with Morvva and Lazarrn here, and I think we straightened out a few things. You will no longer be held to the past for the way you live, but I want to caution you that change for the sake of change is no better than stagnation. Before you throw away what you have, you must know clearly where you are going, and what your goals are." He turned to Lazarrn and Morvva. "And you can't base the new way on the new me. The change must come from your people, from what they want and need." He stopped, embarrassed. "I'm not very good at this kind of thing." 

A cynical smile touched the Master's lips. "You should be. You're certainly good enough at interfering in the first place." "And you're not?" retorted the Doctor. 

"Ah, but I always have a purpose for becoming involved. With you, it just seems to happen. Do correct me if I'm wrong." 

The Doctor looked intently at the Master. "You know, I think it's about time for us to go," he said. "Would you like a lift to your TARDIS, Master?" 

"Thank you, no, Doctor. I'll be more likely to get there if I walk." Peri snickered quietly. For once, she had to agree with the Master. 

"In that case, I do hope you will behave yourself after I leave," the Doctor said pointedly. 

The Master smiled. "Doctor, you have my word on it." He assumed a sincere expression. 

The Doctor did not look completely convinced. "I suppose that will have to do," he replied dubiously. Turning towards the Yyrikkites, he said, "Well, I'd best be off." He smiled. "If I could please have my Temporal Regulator -- the Relic of Metal?" 

Morvva said, "Of course, Doctor!" He lifted it carefully from the reliquary and handed it respectfully to the Doctor. Much to the astonishment and dismay of the Councillors, the Doctor promptly stuffed it carelessly into his coat pocket. "Well, good-by then." The Doctor and Peri were surrounded by the three Councillors taking their leave. 

When everyone had shaken hands, the time travellers got into the TARDIS. The door closed, then opened again. The Doctor poked his curly head out. "Remember Master: your word." The Master nodded. "My word." The head disappeared, the doors closed, and in a few moments, the time machine dematerialized. 

"I, too, must go now," announced the Master. When no one reacted, he continued, "You don't need to show me the way. I can see myself out." No one stirred. The Master left the Council Chamber with as much dignity as he could muster. 

CHAPTER EIGHT: 

The Master headed blindly down the confusing corridors, hoping he would find the lobby eventually. Suddenly he heard hurrying footsteps coming his way. Soon Orenn, Lynedd, and Rikkir came around a corner. All three froze when they saw him. 

The Master had to fight to hide a smile. The women were dressed in shorts and halter tops that would probably be rejected by a quilt-maker. Lynedd was dressed in as accurate a copy of the sixth Doctor's outfit as the Master thought he'd ever have the misfortune to see. 

The only scarf in sight was on the Master. 

Lynedd pulled Orenn and Rikkir behind him protectively. He faced the Master and said coldly, "I thought you'd have been executed by now." 

"No, as you can see, I received a last-minute reprieve. But thank you so much for your concern," the Master replied sardonically. 

In frosty tones, Orenn said, "If you're looking for the way out, it's along that corridor." She pointed back the way they had come. "We are on our way to the Council Chamber and we're in a bit of a hurry, so if you will step aside and let us pass ..." 

The Master stepped back politely. They went by as quickly as they could, making it clear they wanted nothing more to do with him. Thoughtfully, the Master watched them go. 

There was certainly going to be an interesting scene in the Council Chamber very shortly. He was sorry he wouldn't be there to witness it. Despite the Doctor's attempt to put the people of Yyrikk back along a path of their own making, the Master was willing to bet that in a short time there would be conflict among the "Dangling Scarvers" and the "Bad-Tasters" -- a kind of demented haberdashers' civil war. 

_What these people really need is a strong leader to tell them what they want and to keep them in line ... _ The Master stopped himself before he could complete the thought. He had given the Doctor his word. He continued along the maze-like corridors in the general direction Orenn had indicted, fervently hoping she hadn't sent him the wrong way on purpose. 

But it wasn't too much longer before he reached the lobby. He looked around and smiled with self-satisfaction. Sure enough, there were already several people dressed in quilt-crazy clothing. A group of citizens wearing the ubiquitous dangling scarves stood together, talking excitedly among themselves. The Master could feel the change in the air as he crossed the lobby of the Capitol Building. 

The guards standing near the doors opened them and held them open in a most pointed manner as he approached, watching him like a hawk. "Don't worry," he said to them, "I'm as anxious to leave as you are to have me go." As he crossed the threshold, though, he looked back wistfully. It would have been hearts-warming to see just one person dressed in black from head to foot before he left. 

The Master stepped outside the Capitol Building into the bright sunlight. Squinting a little, he got his bearings, then headed down the main street in the direction of the TARDIS. Soon he was walking along the dirt highway he had been following when he had impulsively accepted the ride from Lazarrn. He was quickly lost in thought. 

His holiday hadn't exactly turned out the way he planned, but he _was_ leaving more or less of his own choice. That was a first! Of course, he did spend some time in jail with a death sentence hanging over his head, but he did not need to be on holiday for that to happen. Then the Doctor had saved him, and that was nothing new either (much as he hated to admit it). Basically, if he had tried to take over the wretched planet from the start, he might have gotten the same results! 

Suddenly he became aware of the sound of a carriage approaching from behind. The driver pulled up alongside him. "Lovely day," he said, tugging at the reins to slow his horse. 

The Master was overcome by a strong feeling of _deja vu._ "Lovely day," he replied. It was almost automatic by now. 

The driver smiled at him cheerfully. "Would you like a ride? I'm heading towards Formmin." 

If there was one thing this little holiday had taught the Master, it was never to accept unnecessary rides! "Thank you, no," he replied. "I'm enjoying the walk." _And that's what I should have said the first time!_

"Suit yourself," replied the driver pleasantly. He drove off, surrounding the Master in a cloud of dirt which billowed up from the unpaved highway. It took the irritated Time Lord quite a while to brush the dust from his once-immaculate clothing. 

He had never been so eager to get back to his TARDIS before, not even when he was fleeing from pursuers with blood in their eyes! It would be quite some time before he would consider taking another holiday. He lengthened his stride -- the sooner he got off this miserable speck in space, the better. 

~AFTERWORD~ 

A strange whirring and chuffing sound filled the lush green forest as an oak tree dematerialized, much to the detriment of several squirrel-like creatures which had taken up residence in its mighty branches. The sound faded, and where the tree had once stood, the was nothing. 

A moment later the tree re-appeared, accompanied by further wheezing and groaning noises. A door in the side of the tree opened and something flew out as if ejected by great force. The door slammed and the tree disappeared again. Peace descended upon the forest once more. 

A bit later some little foraging animals discovered a scarf lying abondoned at the edge of the woods. They dragged it to their nest with great effort, and the following winter they were as warm and comfortable as could be. 

  


  



End file.
